


wrong universe

by arschemy



Category: Assassination Classroom, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Akabane Karma is a Little Shit, BAMF Akabane Karma, BAMF Bakugou Katsuki, Bakubowl, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bakugou Katsuki is a Good Cook, Cute Bakugou Katsuki, Flirty Akabane Karma, Flustered Bakugou Katsuki, M/M, Multi, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27244975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arschemy/pseuds/arschemy
Summary: There stands outside, a person in a suit with sticking red hair and pale skin. Most of all, he carried a gun.Or, Karma and Katsuki meet when Karma gets transported to the BNHA timeline.
Relationships: Akabane Karma & Bakugou Katsuki, Akabane Karma/Bakugou Katsuki, Ashido Mina & Bakugou Katsuki & Kaminari Denki & Kirishima Eijirou & Sero Hanta, Bakubowl - Relationship, Bakugou Katsuki & Class 1-A, Bakugou Katsuki/Class 1-A
Comments: 56
Kudos: 509





	wrong universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically, they meet
> 
> word count: 3504

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i'm back !! this is very self-indulgent of me and it stemmed from watching ep.3 of assassination classroom, _immediately_ going "bakugou."
> 
> i might have written karma as a little more flirty but hey, it was fun to make >:(( also! let's ignore the ending of the anime and say that kuro sensei is alive and laughing <33 for the sake of the pLOT
> 
> [arschemy's support link](https://arschemy.tumblr.com/post/627311169446772736/welcome-33)   
>  [ arschemy's tumblr ](https://arschemy.tumblr.com/post/627311169446772736/welcome-33)   
>  [ arschemy's twitter ](https://twitter.com/arschemy)

It’s a normal day for Class 3-A that Saturday morning, lounging around in the common room while they lazily chat the time away. “Bro come on! There’s no way you don’t have a _type!_ ” Kaminari proclaims from the edge of the couch, slightly hanging off the armrest like a child.

“That’s because I don’t, Pikachu.” Bakugou answers, growing more and more irritated with the attention spotlighted on him. His class is waiting on every word he says like there’s some _“big secret”_ reveal going on.

“Maybe you’re aromantic Bakugou-kun, kero.” Tsuyu offers from the other side of the room while being nestled closely between random chosen members of the Dekuquad, namely Uraraka and Iida. “It’s not fucking like that,” He starts to explain before stopping to collect his thoughts. He’s had infatuations before, sure. Puppy love if you will, the occasional teenage thought of _“they’re hot,”_ and moving onwards.

Bakugou feels akin to under microscopic scrutiny from his classes’ gazes, not from embarrassment or hatred, but from the gentle push of opening up to others. He supposes if he’s ever going to do _it_ — spilling his heart out like those cheesy chick flicks he hates, then it might as well be with the people surrounding him now. “People fucking suck and they’re hard to like.”

They all burst into laughter from the on point character reply, even if it’s anticlimactic compared to anything and everything that could have happened. “Eh, who cares! You’ll find someone as manly as you, Bakubro!” Kirishima exclaims from beside him, tight fist pumping upwards to slice through the air. It’s an easy statement, the redhead’s winning shining grin and glistening welcome eyes cloud Bakugou’s vision. He feels his _traitorous_ lips quirk up, just a little, for a smile.

The 3-A students move onto another topic swiftly, encouraged by the light and carefree atmosphere surrounding them.

Suddenly there’s a harrowing screech of an alarm they’ve only heard in practice drills, “Intruder alert! Intruder alert!” It would be annoying without the accompanied danger, the way it’s repeated over and over again at the highest volume, making their ears ring. Their feet simultaneously hit the ground with a thud, fighting stance at the ready as they frantically crane their necks all around the room.

“Outside!” Iida shouts, already taking off towards the main doors outside their dorms as he spots a lone figure outside that managed to trip the glaring sirens and security. The doors bang against the opposing wall roughly, no doubt leaving a dented mark. It’s uncanny, seeing twenty hero in trainings clamber out rowdily of the building and onto the courtyard — face to face with the trespasser.

Bakugou’s feet shut down against his will and consciousness, it doesn’t happen often, yet he’s too busy staring straight at the surprisingly mesmerizingeyes in front of him.

_Crimson meets gold._

He’s vaguely aware that he’s the only one not moving from his classmates since they’re still clambering to greet the presumed trespasser in order to apprehend or interrogate them. They’re a good distance away from him already and none of them notice his lack of action. The culprit stares back at him in similar fervor, unwavering. Bakugou gains back some of his stream of thought and immediately thinks about the person he’s looking at — red hair similar to Todoroki’s yet different in a way Bakugou can’t pin, pale skin, and strikingly sharp front teeth as the other grins.

His eyes travel down towards their slightly rumpled suit in contrast to the upcoming winter season and _oh._ Bakugou only now notices the gun pointed at him.

The infuriatingly good-looking intruder bares his teeth to show off its pristine white gleam under the sun as he retracts the pistol from its pointed disposition, bringing it towards their own chest and tilting it upwards. Like some cliché action film protagonist move, the unfamiliar redhead blows air onto the tip of the pistol’s barrel.

Bakugou could perfectly picture it now — they’re standing on the edge of a skyrise building while being chased, hair tousling from the winds of air created by the in-flight helicopter. The other bidding him one last goodbye, using a shit line like “We’ll meet again,” as he jumps from the fifty-story skyscraper in order to hang off the helicopter’s landing skids. Bakugou playing the blonde heartbroken love interest to a modern day James Bond in an imaginary universe that uses one too many explosions and gunfire-

He physically shakes his head side to side to extract his train of thoughts from _romanticizing_ a fucking trespasser that probably wants to kill him, judging from the ever-present gun.

Bakugou doesn’t recognize the intruder opening their mouth to speak and only forcibly breaks out of his trance in time to recognize Iida absolutely _rushing_ past the rest of the class with a single-minded goal. His eyes widen at the realization that Iida deliberately moved in front of him, effectively shielding him from the previous point of contact of the weapon. The blonde would have felt irritated at the notion of needing to be _protected_ if it wasn’t for the loud audible crack of _something_ hitting the ground with a thud.

Bakugou would have pitied Iida’s slumped form if he wasn’t taken down _that_ easily.

Now that he considers the situation properly, looking at the bigger picture and ignoring his classmates’ scandalized gasps of outrage, it’s an admittedly complicated feat to beat someone with speed like Iida’s. The trespasser’s still looming over their class president threateningly, a hand on Iida’s head to push him onto the pavement and a foot pressed against his chest.

“Let him go!” shouts Kirishima, arms already hardened in front of him and ready for attack. Bakugou could see from the corner of his watchful eyes the green sparks running up Midoriya’s legs and the thin layer of frost surrounding Todoroki’s hand.

The addressed moves languidly in purpose, drawing out the action of standing upright in order to release his hold on Iida’s body. They take in the sight of the Class 3-A with quirks at the ready, slowly raising both of their hands beside their head, one still holding the pistol tightly.

“I come in peace?” the culprit says cockily, stunning everyone else in surprise at the lack of death threats and monologues — one that they’re encountered with every villain.

Amidst the silence, Bakugou snorts loudly at the statement, unable to control himself. Several heads snap towards his figure, nothing he pays importance to with his eyes once again connecting with the intruder among them. Bakugou shakes his head in amusement, eyes glinting with mischief at the prospect.

“Alien invasion, huh?”

The redhead teasingly smiles, way too comfortable in his position of being surrounded. They look around the area once again, nose scrunching unconsciously in confusion.

“Something like that.”

* * *

The class brings them in the dorm common room and ties him against a chair with little to no resistance aside from sweetly said insults. Iida, holding a chunk of ice that Todoroki graciously made against his throbbing head, has already called Aizawa about their emergency situation.

Their teacher accompanied by a familiar police figure marches in around a minute or two later, steps hurried yet skillfully silent against the hard floor, developed under years of pro service. “Who are you?” Aizawa cuts to the chase, trying hard to ignore the surplus amount of tape made from Sero’s quirk littering the floor.

“An alien presumably,” The addressed says in lieu of an answer, directing his tilted head onto Bakugou’s form that’s chuckling quietly at the apparent inside joke. Aizawa understandably glares at the both of them, opening his mouth to oppose before he’s rudely interrupted by the person they’re interrogating. “Let me level with you,” He starts to explain.

“I don’t know how I got here, _hobo_. I was hiding behind a shed at my school, finding my teacher,” He shifts at his seat uncomfortably, trying to loosen the hold. “Before I know, I’m blinded by white light.” Aizawa raises an eyebrow at the statement while side-eying his brought partner, searching the implications behind it.

“I think I accidentally stepped on something though,” He adds as an afterthought. The trespasser smiles mockingly once again, “But that doesn’t answer your question huh? It’s Akabane Karma, call me by my first name.”

Tsukauchi, previously quietly observing the turn of events, speaks up. “They’re not lying,” he confirms with a nod, eyes hard as steel at the simple fact of truth.

Akabane interjects with a suspicious tone even though he’s the one tied up, “How do you know?” Aizawa does a double take and ponders for a moment before replying, “Detective Tsukauchi’s quirk allows him to tell if you’re lying.”

“What’s a quirk?”

“…Huh?”

Tsukauchi places a delicate hand on Aizawa’s shoulder to keep him from answering. He then approaches the question slowly, nick picking the right words. “Quirks are- How do I say this… They’re like powers in another term, almost everyone has one.” Akabane’s eyes widened slightly, surprised.

“You a superhero or something?”

The teacher’s composure changes from tense shoulders to a confused stance while facing the detective, ignoring the question raised. “He wasn’t lying.” Aizawa reiterates, almost like he’s trying to convince himself rather than the people listening in. Tsukauchi understandably has nothing to offer, content with observing the redhead’s mannerisms. He’s too _calm_ for someone who’s never heard of quirks before and yet doesn’t seem to be under an amnesia or memory erasing influence.

Akabane ponders for a moment, recalling back to the person that _rudely_ attacked him. It wasn’t the normal speed he’s accustomed to; Akabane recognizes that. There’s only one other person he _knows_ has the ability of inhumane speed and they’re kept top secret — _feared._

He’s always thought Kurosensei was the only one of his kind, but in a world filled with _powers?_ Akabane looks around the room, taking notice of the unusual discrepancies between the ones he’s seeing and the people he knew. There’s a goddamn frog, engines for legs, and what the fuck is up with that _hair._

“Psst, psst.” He whispers, catching the stare of a frowning blonde. _“You,”_ Akabane uses his upper core strength to turn the chair around slightly, hopping awkwardly.

“What do you want,” The other answers roughly, though their eyes tell a different story — _interested,_ he’s bold enough to think.

Akabane smiles at the thought, “What’s your name?” He settles, thinking it proper to know what to call them. “Bakugou Katsuki, what’s it to you?” They- _Bakugou_ answers crudely, almost as if the question were an immediate offense to him.

Akabane decides he likes this one.

He decides to speak about his internal conflict instead of beating around the bush, he has a feeling Bakugou appreciates it. “Say… People here could be killed right?”

Bakugou’s left eye twitches and before he could ask what’s _wrong_ , their hands dangerously close to his face while he hears loud popping noises. “Was that a fucking threat?”

Akabane ignores his question, mesmerized eyes traveling down, finding the source. “Oh,” He says when he recognizes the _explosions_ coming out of Bakugou’s palms, “Pretty.”

The blonde sputters incoherently along with some of his classmates, eyes wide in disbelief. “What the _fuck_ do you mean pretty?!” Akabane thinks it’s somewhat _cute_ how his tongue shook when he formed the last word, clearly embarrassed. He leans in closer, hoping Bakugou won’t notice, to further inspect the pink creeping across the other’s cheek.

“Pretty I mean, that’s your er- superpower, right?”

Bakugou scoffs, “ _Quirks,_ dumbass. Yeah, they’re explosions.” He shifts his stance from the previous aggravated one to a marginally more relaxed posture. “What do you mean can we be killed?” Bakugou inquires this time, determining the redhead’s confusion.

Akabane tries to move his hands since it’s only part of his arms peeking out of the tape hold and wiggles them around to exaggerate his point. “Quirks, can people be killed normally with them?”

The other’s eyes glance towards the discarded pistol sitting on the coffee table near them — one that Akabane brought himself. Bakugou shrugs as if to physically say _‘fuck it, might as well’_ before replying, “Yeah we can get fucking killed but I guess it takes more of an effort.”

“ _Theoretically_ , bullets work right?”

Bakugou presents him with a glare, “Fuck off, you know the answer to that.”

“He’s from another universe.” Tsukauchi butts in before Akabane could reply, summarizing the apparent emergency he’s been called in for. Aizawa pinches the bridge of his nose, “That’s not possible, why _here._ ”

“ _Something_ got him here Eraserhead, they’re going to get him out.” The detective pulls out his notepad, skimming through the pages. “I checked the footage, he simply _appeared_ after a bright light, just like he said.”

Aizawa sighs, shoulders hunching impeccably, “What do you want me to do?”

Tsukauchi places a hand on his chin, pondering the possibilities. It takes him one look at Akabane’s smiling face even at the notion of interrogation and quickly comes to a decision, “Do it Eraserhead, you know protocol.” He pats the hero’s back good-naturedly before turning around to leave through the main doors.

Their teacher stares longingly at the scenery outside when the doors open, wishing he wasn’t the person in charge to deal with teenagers. “Karma will be placed under _strict_ regulations.” He starts to glare at Kaminari and Ashido, no doubt ruining their plans for pranks before it even starts. “He’ll stay with us, it’s too dangerous for him to leave.”

Silence comes right after, no one daring to speak due to the suffocating atmosphere created. Aizawa looks at them one by one, mentally drilling the rules stated by glare alone. He’s about to open his mouth to warn them about the repercussions when someone interrupts him _again._

“Can I have my gun back?” Akabane cheerily asks without reading the room.

The pro hero’s eyes turn into slits and darts back and forth between the pistol and the redhead’s face. Once again, Aizawa turns to look at the door Tsukauchi left from and mourns the prospect of more stressful work.

He stalks forward and places a hand on Akabane’s shoulder, “When I untie you, take out your weapons.” Aizawa says lowly yet menacingly manages to deliver his message onto the other and ruefully recalls the hint of metal catching the light under Akabane’s suit jacket.

“Sure thing,” He smiles and Aizawa deduces it’s a special talent of his to grate on people’s nerves.

The elder slowly unravels the tape and makes sure to keep a steady eye on both Akabane’s hands, nodding to Bakugou and Todoroki to be ready for attack. Aizawa breathes a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding when nothing climatic happens, the intruder resolute in staying still in his seat. Slowly, Aizawa leans back and takes careful steps backward to create distance between them before using his right hand to gesture towards the coffee table. “Weapons, _now._ ”

Akabane rolls his eyes playfully and reaches inside his suit pockets to take out two single-shot pistols, one camouflaged and another colored black with a blue streak down the sight. He hears sharp intakes of breaths as he carelessly tosses them down the table, not even sparing them a glance.

He moves onto the other side of his suit and takes out standard fixed blade knives one by one repeatedly, placing them next to the guns in full view. Akabane mentally catalogues the weapons he placed down and counting it to five — taking note that he’s halfway in.

“Dude, what the _fuck._ ” Kamirari utters when Akabane recounts his mental calculations. The person in question is too busy lodging his boots, a pair that looks weirdly similar to Bakugou’s, onto the nearest elevated surface. Akabane takes out a knife each from the inside of his footwear, smiling at them lovingly at the fond memories. His reminiscing gets interrupted by an oddly familiar voice that he still can’t pinpoint.

Bakugou’s breath hitches at the sight, “Is that a fucking _steel tiger_ karambit?”

Akabane’s eyebrows shot up in anticipation and along with many others, wondering how the blonde knew exactly what type it was from one glance. He looks genuinely interested — _enthralled_ Akabane dares say. He hands Bakugou one of the knives which the other gladly receives, “It’s amazing for close range combat.”

“The figure makes all the difference.” Bakugou mutters absentmindedly and brings the knife up to the light, inspecting it. He doesn’t mention the blood stains, Akabane notes.

“Huh,” He says and the blonde’s head snaps back to glare at him, “What?” Akabane chuckles at the absurdity, “Nothing, you know a lot about knives.” He never would have guessed for someone ultimately blessed with explosive _powers_ or whatever they call it to be in depth with weapons.

Bakugou hums non committedly, already turning back to examine the knife in his hand.

Akabane only then notices the stares they’re getting and the deafening silence from the room, he supposes the class didn’t know about the other’s fascination with weapons — _that_ or the mere fact he managed to hold a civil conversation. He smiles before grabbing the last couple of knives and pistols from his body and carelessly placing them in the coffee table with mindless ease.

He’s in the middle of dusting off his favorite automatic handgun, a Glock 18 with red linings, when Bakugou pipes up with a question. “How many do you fucking have?” His eyes are looking at the contrabands amassed skeptically, along with most of his classmates and increasingly suspicious teacher by the minute.

Never missing the chance to make a scene, he takes the opportunity. Akabane slowly raises the pistol to his lips and remains eye contact with Bakugou, getting the urge of déjà vu. Infuriatingly, Akabane presses his puckered lips lightly on the edge of the barrel before tilting the gun towards Bakugou, something akin to a mock salute.

“Enough,” He answers.

Bakugou releases a shaky breath before snorting and rolling his eyes at the action. No one _dares_ say a word after that and the quiet’s almost uncomfortable. Akabane notices out of the corner of his eye — green lighting sparking from a small person’s legs, what seems to be hardened skin from another redhead, and trails of ice creeping up the arms of a dual haired boy.

 _Huh_ , he thinks and smirks at the notion right after, _this is fun._

Uraraka decides to break the tension by asking, “Where will he stay, sensei?” to address the presumed person in authority. _Teacher_ , Akabane cringes.

“We can’t let him out of sight!” Adds Midoriya in earnest while Todoroki initiates, “Letting him go is not an option either.” There’s a chorus of agreements that comes with the conversation, some even going as far to glare at the trespasser’s figure in doubt. They go around in circles while trying to decide accessible accommodation.

“Bakugou,” Akabane says.

Instantly the voices die down and eyes wide in surprise turn to face him. “What?” The blonde answers at his name, perplexed at the sudden statement.

“I can stay with Bakugou, that is, until my class figures out how to get me back.”

Akabane rounds the circle while he speaks and is interrupted by Aizawa, “Why him?” He snorts at the ever-present deadpan tone — it’s strange to say the least, how a simple _teacher_ could be so vigilant and protective over the slightest nuisance.

“He’s,” Akabane points the pistol towards the class, taking in their flinches and gasps before settling on Bakugou who doesn’t move an inch but instead cocks an eyebrow. “ _Different_ from the rest.” He finishes.

He shifts into a more relaxed position to ease the tension in the group's shoulders, “Plus he likes my knives, we’ll get along well.”

“Who the fuck says we would!” Bakugou’s interjection gets easily ignored as it holds no bite, as if done on reflex.

There’s an onslaught of mixed opinions from either side raging from the question of security to the agreement of arrangements for supervision. “Sensei if I may kero,” Tsuyu speaks up and holds a hand to her face in contemplation, “There _is_ an extra room next to his.”

“What!? I mean- How do we know Karma isn’t a traitor?” Kirishima worriedly asks.

Bakugou looks affronted at the question and responds in kind, “I can fucking handle myself! I’ll look after his shitty ass,”

“My _ass-_ ” Akabane starts and crinkles his nose in distaste yet he’s cut off hurriedly.

Before the noise could start anew, Aizawa sighs tiredly once again and finalizes everything. “I expect this won’t interfere with your classes. _Behave,_ Bakugou.”

He glares pointedly at the said blonde student that glares back with heightened fervor. Bakugou opens his mouth to complain at the targeted conversation yet Aizawa decides to take his leave, turning around before he could get a word out. There’s silence right after, no one knowing what to say from the course of events that transpired.

Again, Akabane speaks up in tandem, “My ass isn’t shitty.” For once, Bakugou silently agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the part where karma is an assassin comes up in the next chapter KHSDFJFAJ i'm so sorry this took so long, like i said in my tumblr, my country has been hit with a devastating typhoon and my family only got wifi back today >:((
> 
> feel free to leave kudos, comments and most of all, **requests**!
> 
> [arschemy's support link](https://arschemy.tumblr.com/post/627311169446772736/welcome-33)  
> [ arschemy's tumblr ](https://arschemy.tumblr.com/post/627311169446772736/welcome-33)  
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> 
> credit goes to my [kariage x bakugou ship server](https://discord.gg/gUZafvz) for helping me with this!!


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